


consequences

by salacious



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Eventual Smut, F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Short Multi-Fic, Unplanned Pregnancy, romanogers - Freeform, stevenat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salacious/pseuds/salacious
Summary: Fear and evasion really do seem to bring people closer together. Sometimes it forces people to talk about their feelings and sometimes, just sometimes, they do a little more than just talking.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 57
Kudos: 184





	1. safe with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HappyNat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyNat/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a close encounter with Ross and his men, Natasha finally stops avoiding the inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't watched civil war in years and i probably should've before writing this, but whatever. just enjoy the messy, short ride with me :D i also know that realistically, things with nat being shot should have been different, but for the sake of fic-writing, let's pretend i'm a doctor and i know what i'm talking about lmao
> 
> to my safe place, thank you for listening to all my crazy ideas and encouraging them wholesomely. thank you for loving stevenat as much as i do and indulging every insane plot i send, i don't deserve you jkahjkfh i know it's weeks late, but let's just count this as your birthday and christmas present lmao love ya, HappyNat xx

This entire mess had Natasha wondering if she really should consider herself a skilled spy.

For the first few weeks, she was able to hide without any difficulty. She laid low and went completely unnoticed, was even beginning to wonder if King T’Challa had truly told Ross of her betrayal.

And then she found herself centimetres away from being caught night after night. Every corner she turned, Ross and his men were there.

She was beginning to think that they were either psychic or had a hellhound tracking her.

There was no way they could _actually_ be tracking her though; she might’ve been doubting her capabilities but she was damn good at her job. She knew to cover her tracks and how to disappear.

And yet, there she was, applying pressure to her shoulder because Ross and his fucking goons found her and trapped her.

Natasha had been trying to blend in the market in a little northern town of Spain, right by the border of France. She was walking by the watermelon stand when she realised that she was being followed. So, she turned into the corner, further into the crowd and the agents began running after her.

Her first mistake was not taking into account the time of day. This is when businesses began to close shop for their siesta, which meant that people were leaving the streets and she wouldn’t be able to blend in anymore.

Her second mistake was turning into an alleyway with no exit. Her third mistake was jumping on the garbage bin to try and jump up on the rooftops because Ross had a sniper set up in the perfect position to take her out.

When she noticed it, it was already too late. The shot had been taken and she felt the sting on her shoulder, just buzzing in the back of her mind as she ran as fast as she could to get away.

Luckily for her, mass at the local church had just finished and a crowd of people began to filter out to the streets, blocking her away from whoever was tracking her.

She made it into a little coupe that she managed to hot wire and threw her bag into the passenger seat, rushing away from town and into the direction of what she hoped was safety.

It’s not like she thought that Steve would turn her away, but it’s not like he left in the best terms. Sure, she let him go, but that didn’t mean that he forgave her for not taking his side.

And it’s not like she had wanted to hurt him by taking Tony’s side, she just wanted to keep her family together. She just wanted to compromise because she saw the arguments both sides had. It seemed that she was the only one that was capable of pushing her pride aside and make the decision that was best for everyone.

_“Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA.”_

In the end, her decision ended up hurting everyone around her. She figured that Tony had probably spoken out of disdain, that he probably didn’t _mean_ it, but his words didn’t hurt any less.

Then she thought of Steve’s expression when she spoke up at their initial meeting for the Accords and she knew that there was a huge possibility that she was all alone.

Clint had taken a plea deal, she couldn’t go to the farm – and even if she could, she wouldn’t put Clint’s family at risk.

_They’re your family too._ She could practically hear Clint chastising her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone, but she was either trying to stay awake or she was beginning to hallucinate from the blood loss.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel tighter, squeezing her other hand over the gunshot wound and winced at the sting.

She should have stopped, should have cleaned the wound and made sure that it wouldn’t cause her permanent damage.

But stopping allowed Ross’ men to catch her and she wasn’t about to let them win. If that meant dying on the side of the road on her way to Steve’s hideout, then so be it.

Steve was nearby, anyway. He wasn’t that great at hiding, no matter how much she taught him and Sam, they still left crumbs behind. Granted, if she wanted to hold on to the idea that Steve wasn’t royally pissed at her, she’d surmise that he was purposefully leaving her those crumbs.

That he wanted her to find her as much as she had wanted him to let himself be found.

Years ago, she would have rolled her eyes at the mere thought of forming a bond like that with someone. Yeah, she was close to Clint but this was _different_. Things with Steve always were, had been ever since they went on the run together from H.Y.D.R.A.

That Natasha would have scoffed and shrugged at the mention of forming _attachments_.

That’s not what the Black Widow did. She trapped her companions, betrayed them and used them to gain an advantage. She stared in the face of death unwaveringly, didn’t blink in remorse at what she did because that’s what she had been trained to do.

And yet, it might’ve not been what the Black Widow did, but it was exactly how Natasha acted. She worried for her teammates, cared about them and made sure that she could be someone they trusted.

It’s why she had signed the damn Accords in the first place!

Nearly 30 minutes later, Natasha pulled onto the side of the road, by a little driveway and sat in the car for a few seconds before grabbing her bag.

If they didn’t kick her ass out, Natasha would have to commend them for their hideout. It was far out of town that they were well hidden but close enough to the main roads in case they needed an emergency escape.

She taught them well.

The gravel under her boots crunched loudly as she made her way up to the quaint little house. Her vision was beginning to blur and her arm had gone numb moments after she made sure that Ross hadn’t been following her.

As she made her way up the stone pathway, she nearly swayed. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and she shivered as she reached up to knock on the wooden door. Part of her had hoped that she had made enough noise to alert them that she was there, but the other part was hoping that she hadn’t been disturbing them.

She only managed to knock on the door once before she had to lean against the door for support. The ground was really swaying now and she was starting to hear the blood rushing in her ears.

It was only a matter of seconds before she’d succumb to the pain and exhaustion and she wasn’t sure she’d wake up to familiar faces if she didn’t make sure that Sam or Steve opened the door.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the curtain flittering for a quick second before the door swung open.

“Natasha?”

His blue eyes were full of concern as they scanned her face. He was hesitant, but not enough that she felt like she had made the wrong call by showing up at his door.

“Hi,” she croaked out weakly. It nearly took all her energy to speak and her throat was beginning to feel dry as hell.

“What happened?” He didn’t move from his spot by the door, just stared at her as if he had been seeing a ghost.

“Ross,” she swallowed thickly, “found me in Gerona. Sniper shot my shoulder.”

“Sam?” He called over his shoulder, tentatively holding his hands out for her to take. “Need the medic kit.” Natasha swayed into his arms and he immediately wrapped a secure arm around her waist. “Now!”

Steve turned to her, trying to help her get to a chair and once she was sitting, he knelt in front of her. He swallowed hard, eyes flickering over her body as he scanned her for more wounds and she smiled to herself when she recognised the slight panic overtaking him.

“I’m fine. Been through worse.”

His eyes snapped up to her, angry and concerned all at once. “Is it okay if I take your jacket off?”

Natasha nodded. “Ever the gentleman.”

He ignored her. “It’s going to hurt a little.” He turned away from her and nearly growled, “Sam, the kit!”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” He huffed in response. “Nearly broke my ankle when I jumped out of bed,” he muttered to himself and then stopped in his tracks when he realised why Steve had nearly broken his door down during the middle of his well-earned sleep.

Natasha was sitting on the uncomfortable little stool while Steve knelt in front of her, wincing as he took her jacket off.

“‘m’the one that was’shot,” she spoke all in one breath, “stop wincin’.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Steve grumbled in response.

“What happened to you?” Sam asked, quickly pulling out gauzes and stitches.

“Ross,” Steve answered, an icy edge taking over his tone. “How’d he find you, Nat?”

The way he asked her sounded like he didn’t really want to know the answer, but she told him anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he looked away from her when Sam pushed him away to work on her shoulder. “I should’ve...this is all my fault.”

With the little bit of consciousness she had left, Natasha rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth when Sam applied alcohol to her wound.

“Didn’t know you put out a hit on my head, Rogers.” He frowned and she added, “Ross has been wanting to do this ever since I mouthed off at Capitol Hill.”

“Nat-”

“S’not your fault, Rogers,” she hissed in a breath to which Sam muttered an apology and she lolled her head to the side.

“You lost a lot of blood,” Steve licked his bottom lip, his face twisting in utter guilt.

“Stop blamin’ yourself,” she sighed. “It’s just a gunshot.”

“Do we need to take her to the hospital?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s a through and through. She lost some blood, but I think she’ll be fine with some rest.”

“See?” She flashed him a lopsided grin. “All good.”

“Nat-”

“I’m the one in pain,” she sighed, irritated, “shouldn’t you be the one trying to comfort me?”

Steve sucked in a breath, grunting a curse under his breath and knelt in front of her again. He tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear and she gave him a weak smile.

“You dyed your hair.”

“Mm,” she tried moving her head, but it felt like she was floating in freezing water, “going on the run 101.”

“It’s nice,” he eyed the dark curls for a moment before looking back at Sam’s handiwork. He was nearly done.

After a moment of silence, Natasha opened her eyes, staring into his with intensity when she mumbled, “Thank you.”

His brows furrowed together in confusion. “For what?”

“Not,” she winced in discomfort, “kicking me out.”

Steve shook his head, frowning. His eyes were still hard and icy, concerned but his voice softened. “Never, Nat.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but her eyes fluttered shut and she weakly muttered, “I’m going to sleep.”

Before Steve could protest, Sam shook his head and told him that if he wanted her to get better, she would need it.

Sam worked in silence and Steve simply stared at Natasha. Her eyes were shut but she winced whenever Sam touched her wound lightly, so she wasn’t sleeping but Steve didn’t think that she was fully conscious of what was happening.

Once Sam finished with her gunshot wound, he cleaned up the area, throwing away the dirty gauzes and made sure to not leave any traces behind. Every time he noticed Steve’s gaze stuck in Natasha’s bloody shirt, he knew that the super soldier was probably blaming himself for everything.

The gunshot looked worse than it actually was and Sam was sure that with a bit of rest and medication, Natasha would be okay. He made sure to let Steve know this, repeating it under his breath until he was sure that Steve would stop looking like he was being tortured.

Steve went to his room to get something for Natasha to wear. He didn’t want her to wake up covered in bloody clothes. As he was walking back to the living room, Sam stopped him in the hallway.

“You okay with this?”

Steve frowned. “What?”

“Is this...” Sam frowned, struggling with his words. It’s not that he wanted to accuse Natasha of setting a trap, but the last time they had seen each other, they were fighting for opposite sides.

Seeing her out of the blue...well, it arose suspicion.

“Look, there’s no subtle way to say this, do you think that maybe this is a trap?”

The look of confusion on Steve’s face quickly morphed into a steely expression. “No.” There was no hesitation, no pause or question in his voice.

“Steve,” Sam cajoled softly, “look, man, I’m just trying to-”

“Not, Nat,” He shook his head, “I know her and I trust her. She wouldn’t do that.”

Sam didn’t say anything in response, he just looked at Steve for a moment, just searching in his face for a flicker of hesitation. He never found one.

“Nat wouldn’t.” He repeated again, vehemently assuring him that they had nothing to worry about. “She let me go back at the tarmac. She’s not...” he shook his head, strangling his shirt in his hands, “she wouldn’t.”

He sounded so sure of it, so confident that the bloody, nearly unconscious redhead in the living room wouldn’t turn on them, that Sam just nodded in agreement.

“Alright.” He stepped back. “Okay. I trust you and if you think we’re good, then we’re good.”

Steve nodded his head once, gritting his teeth tightly. He wasn’t angry at Sam, didn’t even feel offended that he had questioned Natasha’s credibility because Natasha had taught them both to question everything. However, he couldn’t help but think that if he had just signed the damn Accords, they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

When they walked back into the living room, Natasha was staring up at them with a hard to read expression. Her eyes weren’t really focused, but she was conscious enough to have overheard their whispered conversation.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

Steve furrowed his brows, walking back to her side like he was worried that she’d walk out.

“I didn’t,” she winced and swallowed thickly, struggling to speak clearly, “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nat,” Steve cajoled, shaking his head, “that’s not-”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered, slurring her words slightly as she fought the medication. “Just kept thinkin’ I had to get someplace safe. Just,” she shivered, “knew I had to get away from Ross and get to safety.”

Steve tried to stop her from talking any further, but if there was anything he knew about being partners for so long, was that Natasha Romanoff was as stubborn as they came.

“Made sure he didn’t follow me, don’t worry.” She swallowed hard again, licking her bottom lip. “I’ll go tomorrow. As soon as I’m up, it’ll be like I was never here.”

“No,” Sam spoke fiercely, “none of that. It’s not that I don’t want you here, Nat. Just wanted to make sure I was keeping us safe – you made sure to ingrain that in every training session.”

She let out a weak laugh. “Huh, didn’t think you were actually listening.”

The anxiety and panic that overtook Steve’s stance when she mentioned leaving, immediately melted from his shoulders when he heard her coughed laughter.

“You’re staying with us, Nat.” He softened his harsh tone, “For as long as you want to.”

Her glassy green eyes flickered to his and she managed to curl her lips into a sweet smile. “Who else is going to make sure you don’t keep leaving clues behind to be found?”

Sam frowned, turning to Steve with a look of confusion and when he noticed the way Steve’s face turned red, his frown deepened.

“What makes you think I wasn’t doing that on purpose?”

Sam spoke up, stopping their little banter. “Uh, what?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Leaving clues on purpose?”

Steve ignored him, licking his bottom lip sheepishly. “I knew that it would be impossible to find you,” he looked away from her, the red in his cheeks intensifying a bit, “so I wanted you to know that if you wanted to come with us...that it was okay.” He turned back to her, several emotions swirling in his eyes that had she been feeling 100% she might’ve been able to recognise, “That I wanted you to be with us.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, but she smiled sweetly, warmly. “You’re too sweet, Steve. Dumb, but sweet.”

“I’m going to have to agree with the nearly unconscious spy here,” Sam muttered, “what the hell were you thinking, man?! When were you going to tell me that you were leaving ways for us to be tracked?!”

Steve rolled his eyes and moved closer to help Natasha stand up. “Nat, can you stand up?”

“Mm,” she grunted and held unto him tightly.

He wrapped his arms around her securely, making sure to not hurt her and sighed exasperatedly at Sam’s betrayed expression.

“It was safe! I made sure that only Nat would know.”

“Better have been worth it, Romeo!”

Steve felt his face heating up again, but he ignored him and continued to help Natasha shuffle to his room.

“Do you want to shower?”

She shook her head. “M’too tired.”

“Okay,” He helped her sit on the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of her. “Want me to help you change into something else?”

He took the slow nod of her head as an answer and tried his hardest to be gentle as he removed her dirty clothes. Once she was changed into one of his clean shirts, she let out a deep sigh and leaned back into the bed, trying to get comfortable.

For a while, they were completely quiet. Her breathing had evened out and he thought that she had fallen asleep, but she turned her head in his direction.

Her eyes were still closed when she weakly croaked out, “I’m sorry.”

His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “Nat-”

“Just knew I’d be safe here.” She paused briefly and in a whisper added, “With you. I’m always safe with you.”

There were a million things that ran through his mind, that he could have said in response, but by the time he chose something that wouldn’t ruin whatever had been happening between them – that hadn’t already been ruined by the Accords – Natasha seemed to completely succumb to the medication and sleep.

Steve sighed, pulling the chair up to the side of the bed, turned on the police scanner by the nightstand to the lowest setting and made sure to keep an eye on her breathing to make sure that she’d be okay.

He tried not to dwell on her words, to not take them too seriously because she had nearly been killed and was under heavy medication, but as he sat in the quiet room, he couldn’t stop to think about everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

Sam had said that he hoped leaving her clues of where they’d be heading was worth it and when he thought about the way his heart nearly stopped in his chest when he saw her standing on the other side of the door, Steve knew that it had absolutely been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was all written on my phone, lmao, so i'm sorry for the mistakes and if it reads weird! i was just inspired! for the next part, we'll focus more on the feelings and stuff xx


	2. the things you made me feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha wakes up and finds out what Sam and Steve have been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, y'all. I just get inspired to write at really weird times and life has been crazy with work and classes. So, anyway, here's a bit of craziness 
> 
> Also, um, I lied - no one talks about feelings lmao. But I promise it's coming! I just...I said there was gonna be angst and I'm delivering lmao

Steve didn’t plan on staying on the chair all night.

A few hours after Natasha had fallen asleep, he and Sam went to move the car into the barn behind the cottage, where they were currently hiding the helicarrier he had taken from Leipzig-Halle and drove around for a few moments to make sure that nothing had been out of the ordinary.

He knew that Natasha was the best at what she did, and he trusted her more than anyone, but her words had stuck with him.

She felt safe with him.

Safe. With _him_.

It’s why he drove around in circles, ignoring Sam’s side glances, crammed in a little car with his knees nearly touching the dashboard and the top of his hair against the roof of the car, listening to a radio station play old Spanish ballads.

Sam tried to ask questions, like what their next move would be, what Natasha wanted to do and why the hell he had been leaving Natasha clues for them to be found.

It’s not that Sam didn’t trust him, but, dammit, leaving clues?! Did he really think they were in some sort of children’s fairy-tale book?

Steve sighed, leaning back against the seat and craned his neck. “Before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nat and I went on a mission to Poland. It was supposed to be easy, a quick recon mission but we got separated and I couldn’t find her.”

Sam stared at him quietly, watching as the emotions unfolded across his face. For a split moment, the anxiousness Steve had felt when he lost Natasha was evident in his face.

“I was ready to blow our covers,” he scoffed out a little, smiling to himself in amusement at his naïveté. With a quick lick to his lips, he continued, “Was ready to screw the mission all to hell when I went back to our hideout, I saw a postcard on the fridge. Had a red lipstick stain on it and on the back of it, in her neat handwriting, she had written that she was okay.”

Steve let out a long sigh, flexing his hands on the steering wheel as he squeezed at it. “Fury sent back for me and told me that something had come up and that I was needed back at the states.” He was quiet for a moment, looking out the window with a hint of sadness in his face. “He told me that she was fine, that she didn’t need my help anymore and that I was being reassigned to another post.”

He cleared his throat and Sam listened to the unspoken words, slowly realising why Steve had done what he had done.

“Natasha managed to send me four postcards after that, letting me know that she was okay. Sending me little jabs and jokes,” he shook his head, smiling a little to himself, “then the postcards stopped and I thought it was because she had finally finished. Turns out, she was captured and beaten so badly that they left her for dead.”

His dark brows furrowed a bit, lips trembling with emotions he wasn’t ready to face and his gaze blurred with unshed tears. “Fury didn’t let me go with the rescue team, said something about needing me elsewhere and I was so furious...” he sighed again, shaking his head and the memories with it. “If I had just known where she was, I could’ve gotten her.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “It’s not your fault.”

Steve scoffed softly.

“Seriously, Steve. It isn’t.”

He shrugged an arm, still not looking away from their new hiding place. They’d only been there for 3 days and he already felt like they were getting too comfortable.

“She’s my partner. I shoulda been there, shoulda helped.” Steve raised his head, not wanting to discuss the matter anymore. “So, I left her those postcards because I wanted her to know we were okay and in a way...” he trailed off, frowning to himself, “it...made me feel a little less guilty about leaving her behind again.”

Before Sam could retort a wise response, something that would try making him feel better, Steve opened the door and got out.

“Steve?” Sam called out, closing the passenger door. “It’s not your fault, man. Don’t beat yourself up for it. Next time you wanna do something like that,” he reached out to squeeze his shoulder, “just tell me. I can help.”

Steve shot him a grateful smile and nodded. “Thanks, Sam.”

“I’m gonna try to catch some Zs. You should do the same.”

Steve nodded again, suddenly feeling all the weight of the world returning to his shoulders. He was...for a lack of a better word, fucking exhausted.

They had only been on the run for a few months, but his nights were completely restless. If he slept for more than three hours, it would be a miracle.

He was already tired of looking over his shoulder, of being away from his friends, of keeping his friend away from his family, of letting the guilt eat at him alive.

The worst thing of it all was that if given the chance, he’d probably do it all over again. He wasn’t going to stand by and let Bucky take the fall for crimes he didn’t commit.

He understood that his actions as the lead in their missions had undoubtedly caused harm, but he wasn’t the same Brooklyn boy from the 40s that saw the world in black and white.

Things were different now. Murkier, and as much as he tried to navigate those waters with a clear head, he wasn’t a perfect man.

The serum might’ve turned him into the “peak of humanity” but that didn’t mean he was perfect.

They seriously couldn’t ask him to let someone else control their actions, someone that may have biased intentions because if living in this new period taught him anything, was that people in positions of power loved to take advantage of it.

So, sure, he deeply regretted tearing apart the Avengers. Regretted keeping Sam, Scott and Clint from their families, and Wanda from her normal life, but he couldn’t sign the Accords. Not with the stipulations they wanted him to agree to.

He walked into his room and breathed a little easier when he saw that Natasha was still sleeping in his bed.

He sat down again by her side, staring at her in silence and lost himself in his thoughts.

Making her choose was probably what he regretted the most.

Out of all of them, Natasha was the one that kept them together, the glue of the family that was always cleaning up their messes because that’s what they all were - a family.

And Steve had forced her to choose, had forced her to be labelled a criminal for letting him walk away in Leipzig-Halle.

Steve knew that Natasha had made the decision on her own, but he saw the hurt in her eyes when he told her he couldn’t stop, that he wouldn’t stop.

She was the only one he couldn’t fight, the only one that probably would’ve bested him and brought him to his knees, but instead, she pointed her Widows Bite at King T’Challa and let him go.

Because of that, their family was scattered through the globe, hiding as fugitives of the law and evading near-death experiences.

He sunk into the chair, blowing out a puff of air and ran his fingers through his hair.

On the bed, Natasha winced momentarily, eyes still closed and asleep, and Steve sat up, alert and worried.

He watched her, holding his breath and slowly relaxed when the grimace left her lips and she seemed to fall back into her deep sleep.

With the bit of moonlight peeking in through the curtains, Steve noticed the scars and bruises on her face. Her bottom lip was busted open, but it seemed to have been healing for a few days, just a little pink around the edges of the scar.

Her cheekbones were scraped, the antibiotic making her skin glossy and her eyes looked slightly sunken in as if she hadn’t been sleeping or eating well.

There were a myriad of bruises on her arms, each a different colour and in different stages of healing and Steve hated that she had been alone for so long and that it had been his fault.

He sat back, succumbing to the idea that it would be another sleepless night and thought about how she had made him feel with just a look.

He’d blame the adrenaline, the mixture of medication in her system and the near-death experience for the way she earnestly confessed how he made her feel safe.

That...it was exactly what he felt when she was there.

Safe.

He was afraid that if he fell asleep, he’d wake up and she’d be gone. That she’d run away and take that feeling of safety with her.

~*~

Natasha woke up with a small gasp, barely audible and wide eyes. She was in an unfamiliar place, in a soft bed that felt too big and empty. The short hours that she slept, she had been staying on a little cot, somewhere she could easily hide and feel less alone.

Right then, she was in a soft, cool bed with a cotton comforter tucked at her sides and feeling so sore she thought someone had cracked her like a glow stick. Her shoulder, in particular, felt like she had been bitten by a hoard of bees and thrown out a moving truck.

In other words, she was feeling like shit.

She winced, shifting on the bed uncomfortably and sighed softly when she remembered why she wasn’t in a familiar place.

_Ross._

_Sniper._

_Running._

_Steve._

Natasha groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. She had run to him, had sought safety and made an ass of herself. She was such an idiot.

Once she was a little more situated, she looked to her right and realised that she wasn’t alone. Steve was sitting on the little sofa, with his head leaning uncomfortably on his shoulder and his lips slightly agape. He was breathing in deeply, slowly and rhythmically and Natasha wanted to stand up and adjust his posture.

He looked so uncomfortable and while he looked like he was in a deep sleep, he still looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. He had a blanket over his lap, but it was folded so it was barely covering anything.

His hair was longer, sweeping a little over his eyes and curling at the nape of his neck. He had a shadow of stubble on his face and Natasha hated to admit that he still looked handsome enough to make her heart flutter a little. Even with his eyes closed, he could still make her feel like she had a little schoolgirl crush.

He was wearing a white shirt which was a little too tight on him (not that she minded) and a pair of grey sweatpants.

Natasha wanted to reach out and brush his hair back, wanted to trace his long lashes and wipe away the dark bags under his eyes. He looked like a man that was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and it broke her heart.

Steve stirred on the seat, furrowing his brows and scrunching his nose before snapping his eyes opened. He quickly sat up, leaning forward to check on her and smiled at her softly when he realised that she was awake.

“Hi,” she croaked out, wincing when she moved.

“Mornin’,” he murmured. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” she groaned and his grin widened. He couldn’t hide how happy he was that she was awake. “What about you?”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck and winced in discomfort. “Have been better.”

“You didn’t have to sleep there.” She let out a yawn and slowly sat up. She felt disgusting and sore, it really wasn’t a good combination. “The bed is big enough.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” He watched her curiously like he couldn’t believe that she was really there and it made her feel warm inside. Made her want to do something stupid like blush and giggle.

This was _not_ how she envisioned their meeting after their fight at Leipzig-Halle.

“Please tell me that you guys have hot water here.”

A pretty smile lit up his face and he nodded. He pointed to the door next to him. “Want me to help you in?”

She nodded and grunted softly when she moved her arm. Once she moved it more and showered, she was sure that she’d feel better, that it would hurt less. It felt a little warm to the touch and she probably needed to change the bandages soon, but it wasn’t painful enough that she was too worried.

First, she needed to shower, needed to wash away the grime under her nails and the dried blood caked to her arm. When she sat up, she noticed that she wasn’t wearing the clothes she had arrived in. She was wearing a large blue t-shirt that pooled around arms, nearly swallowing her.

“Did you change me?” Her lips curled up in a sweet smile, mischievous and teasing.

Steve scratched the back of his neck, looking away from her and nodded. “Ah, yeah. Your shirt was dirty and I didn’t wanna leave you sleeping in that.”

“Thank you.” She was still wearing her jeans but he had taken her boots off.

The bathroom in the cottage was small and cosy. Definitely outdated but it had a sink, a toilet and a shower and that’s all she wanted then. If she could stand under hot water without having to worry about someone kicking the door down for more than five minutes, she’d die happy.

Steve showed her how to work the shower and helped her take the shirt off without hurting her arm. He averted his gaze when she stood in front of him in a lacy nude bra and told her that he’d wait outside in case she needed his help.

She stood under the stream of the hot water for a few moments, with her eyes closed and her muscles relaxing slowly. Then she tried her best to hold the showerhead away from her bandages to keep them dry and wash away the sweat and dirt from the previous day.

“You really need to get something other than a 3-in-1 body wash, Steve.” She glared at the bottle, grateful that she could shower with something, but a little annoyed that it was with that. He could’ve at least had conditioner; her hair now would be unbearably tangled.

He laughed in response, changing the sheets on the bed and walked back to the bathroom. “It gets the job done.”

“It’s gonna leave my skin dry,” she grumbled, but still lathered some over her arm and washed away the dirt.

He splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth while waiting for her to finish.

Natasha washed her hair as best as she could and when she finished, blindly searched for a towel. Steve held it up for her, looking down at the floor to avoid seeing anything that she didn’t want him to see.

She grimaced, trying her best to wrap the towel around her body and let out a little sound of triumph when she managed to pinch the edge of the towel with her elbow.

“How’s your shoulder doing?” Steve peered down at her, trying to see and she turned her back to him so that he could check it. “Here,” he grabbed another towel and gently wrapped it around her head to keep her hair from dripping water on her gunshot wound.

His fingers gently peeled back the bandages and he wiped away a few droplets of water that managed to drip onto her back. It wasn’t bleeding and it just looked a little red. Sam had done a great job with her stitches so she’d probably not have a scar.

“Looks good,” he murmured softly and stepped back.

“Thank you.”

She pinched her towel with her arms and held the one around her head with her good hand. Steve helped her find something comfortable to wear in her duffel bag and blushed a light pink when she asked him to help her into the shirt.

There were a few scars down her back with bruises colouring spots on her skin and his face fell when he thought about how they must hurt. There was a big one down her hip, but she didn’t even flinch when his fingers brushed against it lightly.

Natasha looked over her shoulder. “How much would you hate me if I asked you to brush my hair?”

Steve chuckled softly, rolling her eyes and grabbed the brush in her duffel bag. “I could never hate you, Nat.”

He waited for her to sit on the edge of the bed and squeezed her hair before gently brushing through it. Natasha closed her eyes, nearly falling asleep because he was being so tender and because she was enjoying the pampering more than she should.

After Steve finished brushing her hair, Sam knocked on the door to call them for dinner. Apparently, she had slept nearly all day, but they didn’t want to disturb her and she was grateful because even though she didn’t really feel fully rested, she had slept longer than what she had in weeks.

Sam had made chicken gumbo for dinner and Natasha’s stomach responded embarrassingly loud at the smell in the kitchen. For the first few minutes, it was a little awkward between them because they weren’t talking, but then Sam started ordering her around the kitchen and everything felt like it was back in place.

Steve helped her set up the table while Sam pulled the bread he had made out of the oven and hummed under his breath to the song on the radio. It was an old Spanish song and when the guitar solo came on, Sam took a step back to strum his imaginary instrument.

Natasha laughed at his antics and Steve shook his head but couldn’t help to smile. It had been the first time in weeks that he felt this light, that he felt this…whole. He hated the circumstances that brought her to him, but he was so happy to see her.

She threw her head back, laughing loudly at Sam’s off-key rendition of the song playing on the radio and Steve tried his hardest to capture that in his permanent memories. Her eyes were twinkling, the green in them bright and captivating, and they were crinkling at the sides. Her hair was still a little damp at the ends, but it was shiny and kept waving around her whenever she laughed.

He was completely enthralled at that moment, just watching from the table with the wine bottle that Sam kept saving for a moment they’d celebrate. If there was a moment they’d celebrate on their run, it was this.

Seeing Natasha again, hearing her laugh, being able to pull her into a hug and soothe away all the unspoken words he had been holding back since the Accords was reason enough for him to celebrate.

They ate in silence at first, enjoying the explosion of flavours Sam had managed to create. Steve wasn’t a bad cook, but Sam had completely taken over their meals because he said it helped to make him feel better.

And after tasting the food he could make; Steve had no reason to argue.

“So,” Natasha placed her spoon in the empty plate and pushed it away from her a little. She was completely full. “What have you guys been up to this entire time?”

“Vacationing,” Sam sassily responded.

Natasha laughed, rolling her eyes. “I can see.”

He shot her a wink, then sobered up. “Eh, it’s been okay. Feels a little like when SHIELD fell. On the run again. This time though, the hotels suck.”

“No million-worthy scenic views?” She joked

“This place is nicer than the last one,” Steve spoke up, sitting back on his chair to relax.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, nodding, “last one we had rats next door.”

Natasha shrugged. “That’s not so bad. I slept in a farm last time, woke up to a pig smelling my foot.”

Sam made a face. “We’ve been living in luxury compared to you, then.”

She laughed. “It was just one night. I was too tired to make it back into the city and it was the first place I found. Had the smell of hay stuck in my hair for days,” she shuddered at the memory.

Steve leaned forward, placing his forearms against the edge of the table. “How many run-ins have you had with Ross?”

“Up close?” He nodded and she shrugged. “About three. Yesterday was the closest he’s come to catching me, though. He caught me off guard.”

He frowned and before he could speak out his concern, Sam spoke. “We’ve only encountered them once.”

“Why are they after you so much?”

“I was the one that let you guys go,” she shrugged again nonchalantly like nearly being caught was the least of her worries. Steve’s jaw ticked in subdued annoyance. “They probably think that catching me will lead them to you.”

Her brows furrowed a little as she realised that she had probably made it easier for them to be caught but he put an end to those thoughts as soon as he saw them flicker over her face.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he shook his head. “I’m sure they know Sam and I let everyone out of the Raft. They probably think that they can use you against me.”

“Makes sense,” Sam muttered, “you were leaving her clues.”

Steve let out a sigh and Sam grinned at him cheekily.

“I think it’ll be better now. We can help each other more if we’re together.”

“Mm,” Sam nodded and grinned mischievously as he looked at Steve, “and maybe Nat can help me ignore your bemoaning over that CIA agent.”

Natasha frowned.

Bemoaning over a CIA agent?

“Sam,” Steve scowled. “I’m not ‘bemoaning’ over Sharon.”

Oh.

Natasha swallowed thickly, trying to keep her face completely composed. “Oh yeah?” Her voice came out a little more tense than she intended, so she cleared her throat. “Steve has a crush?”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.

“They kissed,” Sam leaned forward as if to whisper conspiratorially. “She came to give us our things, the shield and the wings and then they kissed.”

“Sam.”

When Natasha had approached Sharon with their equipment, the last thing on her mind was that the agent probably had a crush on Steve. Let alone that it was returned. Goddammit, she was an idiot.

Sharon wasn’t just pretty and capable, she was also a Carter – made sense why Steve would like her.

Natasha had tried her hardest to stay completely neutral when Tony took the shield and the wings, but she knew how badly they’d need them if Tony was bringing all his manpower. So, naturally, she broke into the vault and asked Sharon to give them to Sam and Steve.

She couldn’t do it herself, couldn’t see Steve in person and have him look at her again with cold, betrayed eyes – so, she sent someone that was on Steve’s side, that was helping him when Natasha couldn’t.

Steve’s face was as red as her hair used to be. He was obviously embarrassed and all the flittering looks she thought he had been giving her earlier were just a figment of her imagination.

But this?

This was better.

He deserved a good woman, someone that could give him the family she was so sure he wanted.

Something she’d never be able to give him.

God, she was an idiot.

How could she let herself crush on him for so long?! The fear of rejection is the exact reason she ran from him at the cemetery that day. Now that she thought she could…

_Do what?_

Whatever it was that she felt, it had been too late.

“Did you leave her clues, too?” She tried joking and hoped to all hell that there was no bitterness in her voice.

Steve frowned, shaking his head. “No. We haven’t spoken since then.”

“Which is exactly why he’s been moping around all this time,” Sam added, giving him a pointed look.

Steve muttered a grumbled response in return and got up to wash his dishes.

“Someone’s grumpier than usual,” Sam whispered in a sing-song voice.

Natasha forced a smile.

After a few moments of silence, Sam called Steve over his shoulder. “Hey, we need to get groceries. Used up the last bit of food we had on dinner today.”

“Okay,” Steve wiped his hands and leaned against the counter. “We can go tomorrow morning. Wanna come with, Nat?”

She nodded, the forced smile still on her face.

She had to snap out of it.

She had worked alongside Steve for years feeling what she felt and still managed to get shit done. This time was no different.

She was the damn Black Widow; she didn’t mope around over guys. Didn’t feel any lesser because a man didn’t reciprocate her feelings – even if Steve Rogers wasn’t just _any_ man. At the end of the day, he was still her friend and she should have been happy for him.

Natasha straightened her back, trying to shove away the feelings of jealousy and be a good friend. If that’s all she’d ever be to him, she’d be the best one he’d have.

“That way I can get you some real soap.”

The scowl that was on his face quickly disappeared and he smiled at her softly. “It gets the job done.”

“Mm,” she hummed and bumped her hips against his to move him away from the sink.

“Let me,” he grabs her dishes and she goes back to sit with Sam.

They talk for a little more, catching up and trading stories of their time as fugitives. Then watch a French action movie that was playing on the little TV and spent their entire time laughing at some of the inaccuracies it had.

The entire time, Natasha tried to ignore the little flutters she felt in her stomach when Steve would smile at her or when he placed his arm on the back of the couch, right by her shoulders – or when she’d catch him staring at her through the corner of her eyes.

It was probably all in her head, but the way he stared at her…the longing and devotion that he had in them…she wanted to scream, wanted to push him away and beg him to stop making her feel the damn things she felt.

He smiled at her so fondly, so sweetly, like he was so happy to have her there and for just a short moment, she let herself believe that he was. That he was just as glad to have her around as she was to be there. That he wasn’t missing someone else.

When the movie ended, Sam stood up with a yawn and told them that he was heading to bed since he hadn’t slept all day. “Like some of us,” he eyed Natasha and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Steve shook his head, grinning at them and then turned to her. “You wanna watch another one?”

“I’m actually a little tired. I know I pretty much slept all day, but..”

That was _not_ an excuse.

She really _was_ tired. Her brain kept overthinking during the entire movie and she hoped that with some sleep, she’d be able to stop thinking about Steve.

Once she got some rest, she’d feel better. She’d focus on other things – like making sure that they were safe and that they could find another place to hide in, in case Ross found them.

In other words, she had to make sure that she was focusing on _important_ matters.

“It’s alright,” Steve smiled softly and she stood up. He followed her into the room and she went straight to the bathroom.

Steve had changed her bandages when she finished showering, but she wanted to make sure that her arm was still healing smoothly. She looked over her shoulder, struggling a little to take the tape off and bit her bottom lip in concentration.

“Here,” Steve walked in, “let me.”

Her eyes widened and she nearly smacked her arm into the wall when she jumped away from him. “N-no, it’s fine.”

Why the hell was she blushing?

“Nat-”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll ask Sam for help. I don’t wanna bother you.”

He gave her a look through the mirror and slowly moved her hands away, to her side. “It’s not a bother.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he kept going. “It isn’t,” he stepped closer to her, his warmth enveloping her and she swallowed hard. “Besides,” he added softly, tenderly brushing his fingers over the edges of the bandage, “Sam went to sleep and I’m right here.”

With all the care in the world, Steve gently pulled the bandage back, grazing his fingers along her back and getting closer than she’d like. His warm breath brushed against the nape of her neck, tickling her in one of the most sensitive spots in her body.

Damn him.

He didn’t even know what he was doing to her.

Natasha closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing and think of anything that would distract her from the feeling of his fingertips on her back. She felt like the entire zoo was in her damn stomach, making her nervous and giddy.

She wasn’t used to that at all and she hated it.

“It looks fine,” his breath brushed down her shoulder and she bit on her bottom lip hard enough to keep her mouth shut. “A little red on the edges, but nothing alarming.”

Steve stepped back, smiling at her sweetly through the mirror and she let out a staggered breath that she didn’t even notice she was holding back.

“Thank you.”

The corner of his lips turned even more and he stared at her with pretty blue eyes that completely unravelled her. “Told you, you’re never a bother.”

She nodded, forcing out a little smile and cleared her throat. “Okay, so, you’re not sleeping on that seat again, right?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “now that you’re doing better, I was thinking of going to the couch. I didn’t want to leave you alone last night.”

She ignored that last part and rolled her eyes, the words pouring out smoothly. “Steve, the bed is big enough for us both.”

He hesitated for a moment. “You sure?”

To sleep with him?

How many times had they shared a bed and she never batted an eye? She’d be fine.

“Yeah. Just stay on your side.”

He laughed quietly and nodded.

“Really need to get a toothbrush tomorrow.”

He went to turn the light in the room off and closed the door. “And soap?”

That made her smile. “And soap.”

Steve grabbed the blanket that was draped over the sofa he had slept the night before and quietly unfolded it. The bed dipped under his weight and she hid further into the sheets.

For a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the fan spinning overhead and their quiet breathing.

She hadn’t meant to break the silence, hadn’t even wanted to talk about it, but the words just seemed to fight their way out without first consulting it with her.

“I’m happy for you,” she whispered, looking up at the switch on the fan swinging back and forth.

“What?” She could hear the confusion in his voice. “Why?”

Natasha licked her bottom lip. “That you finally called that nurse.”

He let out a quiet grunt. “She’s not a nurse.”

She rolled her eyes. “Still.”

“Nat,” he chuckled softly, “don’t listen to Sam.”

She ignored him. “I’m serious,” she insisted and quietly added, “it’s so hard to find someone that understands us, that understands our work schedule and what we do.”

Even though it hurt her to know that he had feelings for someone else, she spoke earnestly because no matter what she felt, ultimately she wanted him to be happy.

“It’s hard to find someone with that shared life experience, y’know?”

Steve breathed in deeply and after a moment said, “It is.”

She had sounded so honest and happy for him that Steve didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t feel anything for Sharon. The kiss had been a mistake, something that he regretted and immediately apologised to Sharon for but he hadn’t told anyone about it.

The person he actually cared about was laying right next to him and for a brief moment, he had thought that he could finally confess what he felt. Then he heard how happy she was over Sharon that it almost felt like she was relieved like she couldn’t possibly feel what he felt for her.

Life was funny like that; he finally found the partner with shared life experience but she wasn’t interested.


	3. NOT AN UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a warning and a bit of a rant, not a new chapter.

Sometimes being part of the SteveNat/Romanogers fandom is so disheartening. 

Aside from our ship being dangled over our heads by the writers for so long to just be duped like a bunch of dummies, I find that this fandom is so...clique-y.

I’m sorry this isn’t an update (I’m passionately working on it) but I need to express my disappointment and share a warning here because this fic is set in an AU version of the Cap 3 Civil War events.

With that being said, there’s a huge spoiler in the tags “Unplanned Pregnancy” and for some reason every single month someone sends out a message about how stupid SteveNat/Romanogers fans are for making a theory that Natasha was pregnant in IW because she held her stomach.

Notwithstanding the fact that in this world, a scrawny, sick boy was given a serum that turned him into a powerful soldier, that a girl was experimented on and got superpowers, that a man in a suit is able to shrink himself into the size of an ant - this universe is capable of so many things.

But we still send hate over a fan theory that is absolutely harmless?

We don’t know the full story behind Natasha’s sterilisation and I won’t go into those details but is it really that laughable to believe that science could’ve reversed that sterilisation and that she could’ve been pregnant?

The same science that cured Tony’s blood poisoning, the same science that cured Rhodey’s back, the same science that was mixed with magic to create different universes and open portals to aliens.

I’m just...I’m so disappointed because every single ship-fandom unites to talk about how stupid we are for believing in the possibilities and when we try to defend ourselves we’re the bad guys? 

And truthfully, I can ignore all that hate but seeing self-proclaimed SteveNat shippers say “we don’t claim those fans, they’re stupid” and joining in on the bashing is just sad.

All that to say that yes, in this fic Natasha will be pregnant and yes I’m following all the events with some twisted things to fit _my_ version of a story.

I’m highlighting this because Natasha has been sterilised and believes that she can’t be pregnant in my version of events.

So, if you believe that Natasha being pregnant is something stupid, then my fic won’t be something you enjoy. 

I share this in hopes that those that can’t fathom the possibility of Natasha being pregnant don’t have to suffer through the “stupidity” that will be my story and that I can avoid receiving all the hate that keeps spreading over social media platforms.

I’m here for a good time, a bonding time and a time away from real life disappointments, so if you’re here for that too, I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

If not, I hope you find some fics to your liking!

Disappointed and discouraged, wishing we as a fandom would come together but I’ll stick in my little corner and play with all the ideas that flood my mind.

-salacious 


End file.
